


Albtraum

by AnaliseGrey



Series: Along the Way [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: False Memories, Gen, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Mind Control, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Not exact spoilers but it mentions Trent so..., Spoilers, also reference to the teeny bit we know about Molly's backstory, caleb's backstory, guess what...widomauk!, heavily implied widomauk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:10:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: The world around him is solid-looking, but there’s just enough fuzz at the edges of his perception that he can recognize it for what it is- a dream.No, not a dream. Anightmare.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you want the full experience, play [this on loop](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TKb8RCka70) while reading this story (it's what I was listening to as I wrote this).

The world around him is solid-looking, but there’s just enough fuzz at the edges of his perception that he can recognize it for what it is- a dream.

No, not a dream. A _nightmare_.

The knowledge that he’s dreaming is cold comfort when he’s unable to escape from the awful things his brain produces for him. His memory is excellent, and he has an overly healthy imagination. It comes up with a lot, and almost none of it is good.

“ _Caleb_.”

The voice is faint, but he knows it, would know it anywhere, in or out of his dreams. He freezes, unable to move, unable to run, and it’s not the hold of a spell that keeps him in place, but his own fear, his own cowardice. He knows it’s pointless to flee, to try to run. He knows this from brutal experience.

He was never able to hide from Trent.

The scene around him shifts subtly, solidifying further into Trent’s study at the countryside estate. The walls are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, wood stained dark to match the warm jewel tones of the furnishings, and Caleb can remember the first time he saw this room, before he knew to fear it, can remember the rush of awe and wonder that any one person could own so many books.

“Caleb.”

He blinks, and there’s Trent, standing taller than Caleb remembers, or maybe Caleb is shorter than he should be, it’s difficult to tell. Either way, Trent _looms_ in a way that Caleb feels is probably more a matter of psyche than physicality, but it doesn’t really matter which it is. Caleb can already feel himself starting to shake, his fingers twitching at his sides, wanting to defend himself, but terrified, knowing it can only end in failure, and knowing that if he fights back his punishment will only be that much worse.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Widogast?” Trent’s voice is quiet, expectant, yet still managing to brim with disappointment, and Caleb’s stomach is filled with lead, his knees made of water, and he doesn't understand how they continue to hold him. Trent never had to raise his voice to get their attention, to convey his displeasure. Caleb doesn’t know what he’s done this time, which error he’ll be brought to task for, but he’s thankful that it only seems to be him this time; it’s always worse when the others are there.

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, his words abandoning him. He doesn’t know what he’s done, and so doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to mitigate the damage. Trent looks at him a moment longer then breaks eye contact, nodding decisively.

“Very well. You aren’t the only one I can turn my attentions to.” Trent takes a step to the side and looks over his shoulder and Caleb can’t help but follow his gaze to an open space further into the study, and it takes Caleb a moment to parse what he’s seeing; or, rather, _who_ he’s seeing.

Yasha had never been at Trent’s estate, never appeared in his study, but she’s here now, eyes and expression blank, waiting quietly. Trent walks up to her and smiles, reaching up to place a hand on her shoulder before looking back over to Caleb.

“You have such interesting friends, Widogast.”

“Please-” Caleb doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, exactly. He knows Trent, knows he won’t give up easily on an investment of his time and energy; what does Caleb have to offer in exchange? What could he possibly do or say to fix this?

He blinks again and now it’s Fjord, face slack and eyes just as blank as Yasha’s had been. He blinks again and it’s Jester, then Beau, then Nott, all of them slack-faced and dull-eyed, like life-sized puppets, just waiting for Trent to pull their strings. And it’s wrong, it’s _so wrong_ , to see them all like this, those people normally so full of fire and life, to see them muted, dulled, like they’ve been snuffed out.

He blinks again, and oh gods- there’s Molly, still blazing with color, but his eyes aren’t blank like the others. Molly isn’t moving, looks like he _can’t_ move, but Molly looks just as terrified as Caleb feels, and abruptly Caleb _knows_. He knows what Trent is going to do, and suddenly he’s found his words again.

“ _Bitte_ , Trent please, no, take me instead, you’ve already put so much work into me, I’ll do whatever you want, just _please-_ ”

Trent leans an elbow on Molly’s shoulder, casual, considering, and Caleb can see the fine tremor running through Molly’s body, can see his own fear reflected back to him in Molly’s eyes.

“And what makes you think I won’t do that anyway?” Trent stands up straight, eyes narrowing. “Who are _you_ to bargain with _me_ , Caleb Widogast? I’ve told you before that the enemies of the Empire will show no mercy, and so I can’t show you any either. Don’t you want to be strong? Don’t you want to defend our home against its enemies?”

“ _Ja_...yes, of course, but-”

Trent waves his hand dismissively and Caleb’s words dry up, and no matter how he tries he can’t speak.

“Think of what I could do with you all. Think of what I could accomplish.” He turns back and moves up behind Molly again, and Caleb feels his heart breaking as he sees tears starting to fall from Molly’s eyes.

It’s not real. It’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s a _dream_ -

“Besides,” Trent caresses the side of Molly’s face, and Molly’s eyes close in a grimace. “It wouldn’t be the first time this one’s been emptied out and remade.”

Caleb barely hears Molly’s whimpered, ' _please, not again_ ’ before Trent places his fingertips against Molly’s temple and a gentle glimmer of light sparks and travels quickly around Molly’s head. When Molly opens his eyes again they’re just as empty and blank as the rest of the Nein’s had been.

Caleb hardly notices when Trent moves back to him, unable to tear his eyes away from the empty shell of Mollymauk Tealeaf as Trent places his hands, just starting to glow, against the side of Caleb’s head.

“Welcome home, Caleb.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly doesn’t know at first what’s woken him.

Molly doesn’t know at first what’s woken him.

The room is quiet, the inn around them quiet as well, only the normal nighttime creaks and groans of a settling building and the sounds of the city through the window to be heard.

He's dozing, almost back asleep when the figure next to him twitches, a low noise catching his attention.

Caleb is still asleep by his side, curled in and facing Molly. He’d fallen asleep earlier tucked up against Molly’s side, head resting on Molly’s shoulder, but must have moved over the last few hours. Now he’s hunched in, hair falling over his face, but Molly can still see how his brows are furrowed in distress, even while asleep.

“Nnn,  _ bitte- _ ” Caleb’s voice is quiet but oddly flat, not all there- dreaming, then. Since they’ve started sharing a bed, Caleb’s had a few nightmares, but then so has Molly. 

Caleb jerks in his sleep again, his breath speeding up, and Molly’s heart aches at the tears he can see starting to collect at Caleb’s eyelashes. Molly reaches up and threads his fingers through Caleb’s hair, petting gently. “Sweetheart, I need you to wake up. You’re dreaming.”

Caleb’s response is a quiet whine, and Molly can’t tell if it’s of pain, fear, or some muddled combination of the two. He lets his claws carefully scratch against Caleb’s scalp as he calls to him again. “ _ A chuisle _ \- Caleb, wake up.”

Caleb startles awake, eyes going wide and darting around the dark of the room, breathing still ragged. Molly isn’t sure if Caleb is tracking where he is or not.

“Caleb, you’re in our room at the Leaky Tap. You’re safe, nobody is hurt. Everything is fine.”

“Molly-” Caleb’s voice is so quiet as to be near inaudible, and  _ gods _ , it pains him how terrified Caleb sounds. Molly pulls him closer, pressing Caleb’s forehead into his shoulder and wrapping his arms around the other man, rubbing a hand up and down Caleb’s spine.

“You’re ok, you’re safe, it’s alright.”

Against Molly’s shoulder, Caleb is shaking his head, his hands trembling and clutching at Molly wherever he can reach. “Wasn’t- wasn’t  _ me _ .”

It takes a second for Molly to catch on, and then he clucks his tongue, squeezing Caleb tighter for a moment before rubbing his back again. “We’re all safe, darling, I promise. Beau may have a hell of a hangover in the morning, but we’re all ok. We’re fine, we’re safe.”

For a few minutes, that’s all there is, Molly holding Caleb as he shakes, muttering ever-more ridiculous endearments to him to try to hold the other man in the present, to keep him from slipping back to whatever nightmare had shaken him so badly. Caleb’s shaking has mostly subsided, and he hiccups a disbelieving laugh at the latest endearment. “Your favored  _ what _ ?”

Molly grins, even though Caleb can’t see it, and presses a kiss to the top of the other man’s head. “Turnip. A fine vegetable. Very versatile.”

Caleb hums in fond agreement, then yawns, his jaw cracking with it. Molly presses a kiss to his forehead and settles them more comfortably against their pillows. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep, it’s still early yet.”

Caleb nods against Molly’s shoulder with a soft noise of affirmation, eyes closed and already drifting off. Molly waits until he’s sure Caleb is out again, then breathes a sigh of relief, closing his eyes and letting himself drift back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a request for a follow-up, so here we are :)
> 
> bitte- please  
> A chuisle- my pulse

**Author's Note:**

> Holy smokes, y'all.
> 
> I had the initial idea for this at work today and then came home and blasted it out in a few hours. I actually kind of feel bad about parts of it and feel like I owe a large portion of the MN a few hugs (some more than others).
> 
> Albtraum- 'nightmare'  
> bitte- 'please'
> 
> Want to come yell about Critical Role or other stuff with me or just say hi? Come find me on tumblr at [Analisegrey](https://analisegrey.tumblr.com/).


End file.
